The Mirror of Galadriel
by Varia Lectio
Summary: Galadriel looks into her fabled Mirror, and sees death, terror, and ultimate corruption for the members of the Fellowship... and herself.


The Mirror of Galadriel  
  
Author's Disclaimer and Notes: This is Bookverse, but it could easily fit in with Movieverse, as well. Spoilers for the line of "...in place of a Dark Lord you would have a Queen..." Not Alternate Universe, but it contains glimpses of Alternate Universes. Of course, I don't own Tolkien's world or his characters; I'm just having a wee bit of fun, and if you do peruse this fic, gentle reader, do be kind: help a struggling newbie Tolkien writer out and give a review! Constructive criticism is very welcome!  
  
  
  
Galadriel looked into the Mirror, and saw madness, death, destruction, and terror.  
  
All for a Ring.   
  
Isildur's Bane.  
  
She looked, and saw armies massing together, fighting and dying for their ruler-- a great Queen, greater than any who had ruled before her. Beautiful she was; tall and fair, and yet cruel; cruel because she, like so many others, had started her long and bloodied reign with the noblest of ambitions.   
  
But over the years, over the centuries, those ambitions had soured. Her thoughts and cares had become focused only on the thing that had given her power, the thing that thousands had fought in her name for.  
  
That thing was the Ring upon her finger.  
  
It was made of pure gold, flawless and without a blemish. The hands that had crafted it had been exacting in their care, for it was the most beautiful of all things in Middle-earth. More beautiful than those growing things that had been created by the Valar, more beautiful than those things shaped and forged by the Elves, more beautiful than the Elven Rings of Power.  
  
The One Ring was supreme, and with that in the place of Nenya, her first Ring, she would rule, supreme in power and might.  
  
Galadriel looked away, and closed her eyes.  
  
She opened them again, and turned again to the Mirror.  
  
She looked, and saw a kingdom destroyed by the power of the Ring. The Steward's heir fell into madness, slaying those who had been most dear to him-- his father, who had coveted the Ring for his own, and his brother, who had refused the possession of it. The new Steward claimed the Ring, while the armies of Mordor gathered and descended upon Minas Tirith to snatch the Ring away, and bear it back to its rightful possessor.  
  
Galadriel again turned aside.  
  
Then she opened her eyes once more, and saw--  
  
She saw a half-naked creature sitting in a dark cave. The thing's body was covered with slime and filth; its hair-- what there was of that-- was long and snarled, and its bloodshot, bulging eyes stared at its only possession...  
  
A golden Ring.  
  
The pitiable wretch had long since forgotten his name. He had forgotten his homeland; the Shire, with its green rolling hills and warm yellow sunlight. He had forgotten his home, and its pleasant comforts. He had forgotten his friends, his family, his mission.  
  
He had even forgotten his dearest friend, Sam.  
  
The emaciated creature that had once been a hobbit was not even aware of the orc soldier that had crept up behind him, and who now raised a dagger to stab and slay, and take the Ring for the Dark Lord.  
  
All the creature longed for was the sight of the golden Ring, his precious.   
  
Again, Galadriel turned aside.  
  
"The Mirror does not lie," Annatar had said to her.  
  
Ah, she heard that voice even now! She could even see his face; fair, beautiful, as were all the servants of the Ainur. Even those servants who rebelled against their masters kept, for a time, their lovely visages, as though to remind them of what they had rejected.  
  
He was neither fair nor beautiful, now. Now, his hunger for dominance was paramount, for his old deceits had been uncovered, and he had no lovely face to mask his cruel intentions.  
  
She knew enough of his mind to know that he too had pondered these very outcomes. She knew that he felt certain that his Ring would be taken by either the Istari, the Elves, or the race of Men, and that in the resulting turmoil it would fall into his hands once more.   
  
She could feel his mind prying at her, trying to divine her thoughts and intents. She looked to the Ring on her finger. In the soft blue gloom, Nenya's gem glimmered like a tiny star.  
  
If Sauron gained his Ring, her own would become a trap.  
  
In her memory, she could hear him laughing.  
  
Galadriel stepped away from the Mirror, and pushed Sauron's thoughts aside as though they were the brushing touch of an unwanted hand on her shoulder.   
  
The End. 


End file.
